


Gilded With Blood

by AvoidingAverage



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, First Kiss, Hurt Aiden (The Witcher), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Protective Witchers (The Witcher), Rare Pairings, Sacrificing yourself counts for declaring your feelings right?, Whump, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage
Summary: Aiden watched the slowly growing pool of his life’s blood dripping onto the red rock below him. His chest rose and fell in ragged little gasps made awkward by the sword still pinning him to the earth. Pain was far away now and he knew only the cold chill of death would replace it.As his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but think:This was going to destroy Lambert.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 240





	Gilded With Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be my entry to the Quick Fic Challenge, but I missed the cut off. I hope you enjoy this one shot of my favorite rare pair.

Aiden watched the slowly growing pool of his life’s blood dripping onto the red rock below him. His chest rose and fell in ragged little gasps made awkward by the sword still pinning him to the earth. Pain was far away now and he knew only the cold chill of death would replace it. 

As his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but think:

This was going to destroy Lambert. 

* * *

A relationship between a Cat and a Wolf was destined to be gilded in blood and pain. 

For his part, Aiden had never intended to do more than satisfy the curiosity that had always been his closest friend when he’d heard rumors of another Witcher hanging around Novigrad. None of the Cats ever bothered with this region and he was always interested to sniff out any new techniques or potions from the other Schools. There were so few Witchers left now, after all. 

Besides, he’d already finished all the highest paying contracts in the area and could afford a short vacation. 

It was shockingly easy to find the Witcher sitting alone in a crowd of people intent on keeping several feet of space between themselves and the freak in the corner. Aiden gave a dangerous little smile when they caught sight of him, but knew his slighter frame and narrow build always marked him as the gentler of two evils—at least until his dagger slid between their ribs. 

As he walked, he took the opportunity to eye the other hunter. He was bulkier than any Cat would allow themself to become and seemed hell bent on ignoring everyone else. His hair was close cropped, but Aiden could pick out a red sheen in the dark strands, pockmarked with a few thin scars. There were two large swords strapped across his back in a blatant warning to keep onlookers at bay as he finished off the last of his meal.

Aiden slid into the chair across from the Wolf and smiled. “My, my, my...what big eyes you have.”

Whiskey colored eyes narrowed, suspicion blooming as they tracked the medallion chain visible around his neck. Aiden told himself he didn’t notice the low thrum of heat in his blood that appeared when the other Witcher silently picked out all of the weapons he had hidden on his body. 

“What do you want?”

The surly voice had a pleasant rasp despite its ill temper and he found his grin turning more genuine. “Am I not allowed to seek out the company of my brethren?”

“We aren’t fucking  _ brethren _ .”

_ Prickly thing, wasn’t he? Even more fun. _

“You aren’t a Witcher?” Aiden asked innocently, signaling the barmaid for a drink. 

“I’m a  _ Wolf _ .” The growl the other man released seemed to support the statement and those dark eyes flickered over Aiden once again before dismissing him. Aiden told himself he wasn’t turned on by the challenge. “And you must be a Cat.”

“Because of my delicate features?”

“Because you’re nosy as fuck.”

Aiden pretended to pout. “Are all Wolves as grumpy as you?”

There was a brief flicker of amusement—there and gone before he could savor it. “What do you want?”

“Aren’t you a considerate puppy?“ Aiden crooned and felt that kernel of heat in his gut rush through his veins when the other warrior looked up at him sharply. To keep himself from pushing the other man further, he stuck out a hand. “I’m Aiden.”

For a moment, he thought the Witcher would ignore him but then his hand was engulfed in a calloused grip. “Lambert.”

“A pleasure.”  _ Hopefully.  _

“You’re the reason there aren’t any decent contracts. “

Aiden’s smirk turned challenging. Cats weren’t taught to share. “I was here first.”

Lambert scowled and got to his feet while Aiden absently noticed how much larger and brawny his build was. “Then there’s no point in wasting my time here.”

Without so much as a goodbye, the Wolf turned and shouldered his way through the crowd, leaving Aiden to watch his retreating form. He traced his finger through the condensation on his mug and considered the doorway where Lambert had disappeared to. 

Maybe it was time to have some fun. 

* * *

The thing about Cats is that they never truly learned restraint. They were encouraged to feed into the rush and adrenaline of a fight until they were near mindless with it. Out of battle, they were cunning, vicious and chaotic—moving wherever their mercurial impulses took them. 

Aiden had never been good at ignoring his impulses. 

* * *

“Are you following me?”

“Of course not. Are all of you Wolves this self absorbed?”

* * *

It took two years of trailing the Wolf along his Path before Lambert allowed him to sleep in the same campsite. Another six months before he didn’t scowl at the sight of Aiden starting up a conversation. 

Suspicion, after all, ran deep in a Witcher who could remember the destruction of his school while also allowing the faces of the countless men and women who’d run him out of their village just for being what he was. Aiden didn’t mind though. He enjoyed the uniqueness of having someone utterly honest about their thoughts and feelings—even if they usually were grumpy. Lambert didn’t pretend to be anything other than a warrior who was tired of the war he was made to fight. 

Whatever plans he might have had to leave the other Witcher for greener pastures were easy to ignore when he could spend an evening teasing a smile out of Lambert. It was interesting, invigorating even to be around someone with the same enhancements and lifestyle as he did. Wolves were painfully austere in comparison to his own tastes, but they relished the fight as much as any other Witcher.

Better still were the brief flashes of softness that lurked behind the sharp words and scowling countenance. It was a blanket being tossed over Aiden’s shivering form. A gentle smile to the child of a farmer who needed the cockatiels chased out of his cellars. The extra portion added to Aiden’s meal when times were tough. Or the way the Witcher ‘miscounted’ the cost when he noticed the thin children lurking behind their mother’s skirts. 

Lambert was  _ good _ , even if he no longer believed it. 

The dichotomy of the other man kept Aiden from getting tired of his game following Lambert around. What had started as mere amusement was turning into something far more serious. 

Three years after running across the Wolf in that nameless tavern, Aiden watched the play of muscle as Lambert landed a killing blow. The other Witcher grinned through the streak of black blood on his cheek and looked back at Aiden. In his chest, his heart gave a painful lurch at the feral beauty before him. 

_ Oh.  _

* * *

Despite his tendency for trouble making, Aiden was smart enough to know better than to allow his feelings to become apparent to the other. He was content, for now, to wait and watch Lambert grow used to his presence. Like his School’s namesake, he knew how to be patient. 

So when Lambert came to him with a contract that was enough of a challenge for two, it wasn’t hard to find himself nodding in agreement. 

What was the worst that could happen?

The town of Red Rock certainly didn’t seem to be worth even that much of a name. Aiden barely saw more than a few wary eyes looking around cracked doors as they walked down the dusty road. Neither Witcher had bothered to bring their horses, satisfied to walk in and back to the larger town a few hours away. Better to rest the horses than risk losing them to exhaustion.

“You sure they can afford a contract?” Aiden muttered skeptically.

Lambert frowned at the empty streets. “The message board offered 100 crowns to get rid of this nest. It should be easy money.”

He made a curious sound, eyes scanning the area while Lambert headed into the mayor’s house to discuss the contract. As they moved deeper into the town, he caught sight of more of the thin-faced, suspicious women watching from discreet hiding places. A young boy watched him for a moment with wide eyes before dashing away--no doubt to tell his friends that there were Witchers in the city. Further down the road, an older man glared at him as he walked a tired looking mule into a stable. Aiden gave him a flat look, used to the disdain of humans.

There were hardly any signs of life aside from a few hardy bushes and the people themselves. It was drier than the Cat typically preferred and was missing the kind of natural coverage that made hunts more interesting. He didn’t usually enjoy hunting so far south, but it was a compromise he had to bear when he hated the snow even more. At least it would mean they could finish this job and head back to civilization faster. 

If there was a vampire nest in the area, they’d either picked off the majority of the population already or were ranging further for hunting. The only space that could possibly hide a full nest of vampires from the sun and other threats were the limestone caves that were cut into the side of the canyon after years of erosion. Aiden considered the terrain and estimated it would take them the better part of the morning to reach an area remote enough to hide a nest and a few more to hunt them down. That left plenty of time to enjoy a nice long soak in the hot springs he’d spotted on the way in.

Maybe he could even convince Lambert to join him.

“How many do you think?” he asked when he reappeared.

“Maybe eight? They haven’t laid eyes on them, just the bodies.” The Wolf glanced over at the other Witcher with a small smirk. “They don’t like that there are two of us.”

“I’m sure they’re excited to pay two Witchers.”

“Naturally.”

“Did they keep any of the bodies?”

Lambert shook his head and Aiden tsked.

“I guess we’ll find out if they’re right.” Mentally, he considered the potions he had on him and the odds of being able to finish off the myriad of creatures capable of killing off so many humans. “Did they give you a starting point?”

The Wolf nodded to the east and the outline of rocky canyons and they set off.

* * *

The job went sideways nearly as soon as they stepped foot in the red rock foothills. 

Lambert had been out in front, head shifting as though he really was like his school’s namesake and Aiden unsuccessfully trying not to tease him for it. They hadn’t managed to find any sign of vampires or any other large collection of monsters in the area. In fact, Aiden had been hard pressed to find  _ any _ evidence that there was anything more than a few paranoid humans wasting their time. 

Which was why it was so insulting when an arrow came hurtling through the air to land in the meat of Lambert’s shoulder.

The Wolf made a rough sound of pain and Aiden shoved him roughly to the side, narrowly missing another volley of arrows. They managed to collapse in the shadow of a massive natural arch leading into a deep gulley and a maze of red boulders and desert sand. He curled protectively over the injured Witcher, teeth bared in a hiss as he scanned the rocks around them for some sign of their attackers.

“How bad?” There was death lurking behind the clipped words.

Lambert grunted, reaching up to rip the bolt out before Aiden could curse him for making it worse. “I’ll live.” 

“What kind of creature uses arrows?”

There was a dawning understanding in Lambert’s expression. “Humans or elves.”

Aiden scanned the landscape around them, sharp eyes catching quick movements as shadows ducked behind boulders. Whoever it was had chosen to attack when the sun was high in the sky and bright enough to cancel out any edge they’re enhancements might have given them. That fact was enough to leave him wondering if this was the first time this group had attacked Witchers. He reached out and gestured for the bloodied arrow, quickly examining the fletch and arrow head.

“Not elves,” he growled with new menace.

Lambert let out a long breath. “You think we were set up?”

A few yards away, Aiden listened to a group of footsteps creep closer. He looked over his shoulder towards the setting sun to gauge how long they had before weaker human senses began to work in their favor. 

“I’m starting to think they don’t like us.”

“How many?”

Aiden leaned out of the shelter of the rock, trying to pick out the bodies to match the noise. “At least a dozen. Maybe more.” He looked back at Lambert and tried to ignore the worry burning in his gut at the sight of the blood dripping down the other man’s arm. “Can you make a run for it?”

Tearing a strip out of the bottom part of his shirt, Lambert tied the makeshift pressure bandage around the wound and reached for his sword. “Don’t worry about me, Cat.”

“That’s ‘kitten’ to you, Wolf.”

The smile they shared was little more than a baring of teeth.

Aiden ignored the familiar throb in his chest to consider their options. “We could kill them. I’ll go right, you go left.”

Lambert shook his head. “As much as I want to gut them for this, you know what they’ll do.”

“Right. No more Butchers.” Aiden tried not to sound so disappointed, but had a feeling that he didn’t succeed. “So we run?”

A quick nod. “At the very least, they lured us here to try to kill a Witcher. We need to warn any other that might answer their message.”

“If we can outrun them until nightfall, we should be able to double back to head back to the city.”

Lambert glanced over at the craggy outcropping a few dozen yards away that led to the caves they’d been about to investigate. “We need to get into the caves.”

There was a scuff of a boot against a rock nearby and both of them stiffened. They were out of time. Aiden slid his long sword back into the sheathe across his back, preferring the foot long daggers on his hips for close combat. He had a feeling he would need them. 

He met Lambert’s eyes and silently began to count down, preparing himself to sprint to the next cover.

_ Three….two… _

_ One! _

As one, they burst out from behind the rocks to rush across the empty space of the gulley. Another arrow glanced off the boulder nearest Lambert’s head, but he ignored it in favor of pouring on as much speed as he could. Aiden rewarded the archer with a new hole in his throat that sent him down in a spray of blood. He spotted two more rushing toward them at an angle, threatening to cut them off before they reached the shelter of the gullies and caverns carved out of the mountain.

Without pausing in their headlong dash, Aiden reached out a hand and cast a sharp Aard into the loose stones at the base of the nearest tumble of rocks. The earth gave an alarming rumble and he watched the boulders begin to shift, rolling toward the narrow entrance leading to their chosen escape route. Lambert moved awkwardly, sword held tightly against his size as he ran with Aiden dropping back to cover him. One of the humans shouted something that was lost to the roar of falling rocks.

“Go!” Aiden shouted when Lambert stumbled over a patch of gravel, gripping him by the back of his shirt to keep him moving.

His eyes tracked the largest boulder sliding towards the entrance to the cave systems. They weren’t going to make it.

_ They weren’t going to make it. _

He shoved Lambert through the narrow gap between the entrance and the falling rocks in the same moment that he cast a shaky Quen. The shield didn’t so much stop the boulder’s momentum as it did just ricochet Aiden into the dark cavern.

For a moment, there was nothing but the faint sound of shifting gravel and the panting breaths of both Witchers. The air was choked with dust and Aiden pulled up the fabric of his shirt up to keep from coughing as it settled. He blinked rapidly, trying to speed up the adjustment to the new dark.

“Lambert?” he rasped, hand reaching out to check that he was there.

“I’m good.”

A grunt and Aiden’s eyes finally adjusted to the gloom to find Lambert getting to his feet and beginning to look around the space. Already, Aiden felt like he could feel the weight of the earth above them pressing down on them. He forced his breath to remain even, fighting through the panic.

“Do you think there’s an exit?” he asked, attempting to be casual.

It must not have convinced Lambert because the other Witcher gave him a quick look. “I can smell fresh air further down. We need to reach it before nightfall.”

Then there was nothing else to do but start walking.

Aiden had never truly appreciated the differences between the enhancements of each School’s trials until he began to pad forward through the near darkness still able to see the outline of the shape of each rock. It helped keep the edge of his own panic at bay. Meanwhile, Lambert had lost most of his usual grace and was forced to move forward with his arms outstretched to keep himself from hitting the wall. 

They were forced to pick their direction based on the faint scent of sunlight blowing through the still air each time the tunnel split into new paths and tunnels. A few times they were forced to crawl forward on hands and knees because the ceiling had dropped too low for them to walk upright. Eventually, Aiden settled in beside the other Witcher, subtly moving him around any obstacles and describing where he needed to go next.

“Do you think we lost them?” Lambert said after nearly an hour of walking through the dark.

Aiden hummed thoughtfully. “They won’t be able to move the rocks without going back for help. We should be safe for now.”

“They were waiting for us.” It was the first time either of them had acknowledged the clusterfuck they’d found themselves. “That’s why they didn’t like that two Witchers answered the message posting.”

The Cat tightened his hold on Lambert’s sleeve and tried not to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t agreed to go with the other Witcher. Would he have ever learned what happened to Lambert? Or would he just wait forever for Lambert to meet him at their usual place, wondering which beast had ended the life of the man he was in love with?

Hating himself for not protecting him like he should have.

“They won’t get away with it,” Aiden said after the silence had dragged on for too long. “We just have to get out of here first.”

“We will. I promise you, Aiden. I won’t let you die here.” Lambert’s voice was unusually serious, edging closer to the emotion Aiden knew better than to hope for. “I’ll get you out of here.”

Aiden tried to keep his tone teasing as he gently nudged the Wolf with his shoulder. “Careful there, darling. I might start thinking you like me.”

“Aiden, I--”

Both of them froze at the sound of voices filtering through the cave ahead of them. There was no mistaking the excited chatter and laughter as anything other than the human hunters who’d attacked them before.

“They must have found the other entrance,” Aiden whispered, near silent.

“You think they know the tunnels well enough to find us?”

Neither of them had enough innocence left in them to hope for anything otherwise.

“Can you tell which tunnel they’re moving through?” he asked instead.

Lambert shook his head. “They’ll be close to the exit--they know we’re heading that way.”

Both of them fell silent, their senses sharp enough to catch the scent of smoke mixing with the eager voices. There were more now--at least a dozen if Aiden had to guess. 

If they knew this was the closest exit, they would be waiting for the Witchers there. Whatever sick game they’d set up with the fake call for aid, they intended to end it with blood. The archers that had attacked them were probably only the first line of defense as they waited for Lambert and Aiden to come closer.

After a moment, they crept forward again, taking care not to make any noise that would signal their approach.

Within a few minutes, even Lambert was able to make out the cave around him thanks to the fire they could smell burning nearby. Aiden tried not to make a noise of protest when the other Witcher moved away from him to walk on his own. Now was not the time to fall victim to his impulse to cling to the other man.

Shadows darted across the cave walls as they turned another corner and could hear the human hunters more clearly.

“--big fucker is hurt. Should have heard him squeal when Joff shot him.”

Aiden’s growl was thankfully covered by another round of laughter.

“Thought they said only one was coming?”

“Maybe they’re fucking.”

A dark thought occurred to him then. There had only been women and children in the village when they’d arrived--as though the men were away on other business. The child he’d spotted running off excitedly suddenly took on a macabre hue. Even their mad dash towards the caves had been controlled and directed by the archers hemming them in on both sides. They’d had plenty of time to pick them off as they raced across the open air. Instead, they’d only seemed interested in shooting the injured Witcher.

Like they only needed one of them.

Silently, he signalled to Lambert to retreat to where they wouldn’t be overheard as they decided what they should do. His voice dropped to a vicious whisper. “They set us up.”

Lambert looked up at the flat tone of his voice, frowning. “What do you--”

“They funneled us into the caves.” Aiden glared into the darkness, mind whirling with the possibilities. His hands wrapped around the familiar weight of his knives like a child with a favorite blanket. “They wanted to make sure we couldn’t run. I bet this is the only way out of any of the caverns so they just needed to wait there for us to realize there weren’t any vampires to kill. If it had just been one of us, we’d have been easy for them to overwhelm.”

The Wolf made a low noise of understanding. “That’s why they sent the archers around to pick one of us off.”

“Fuck.”

This was worse than a few drunks trying to play god or the mobs that occasionally cropped up when towns wanted to get out of paying a contract or wanted someone to blame for the number of victims. Aiden had two nasty scars on his back from his most recent run in with the zealots that loved to find reasons to attack anyone with less than pure human blood. The number of humans and the skill they possessed seemed to indicate that this wasn’t the first time they’d done this.

It was a town of murderers. Hunters of hunters.

His eyes scanned the blank walls like he could find the solution to this impossible problem there. If he hadn’t brought down the rocks behind them, they could have doubled back to leave the way they’d entered. Instead, he’d practically buried them alive down here.

“Hey,” Lambert’s voice distracted him from his thoughts to find the Wolf frowning at him, “this isn’t your fault.”

“I blocked our only way out of here.”

“We don’t know that this is the only exit.”

They both knew they didn’t have time to search for another path out. All they had were their weapons and the potions necessary to take out the vampires. Their gear and packs were back with the horses a town over and wouldn’t be able to keep them from dying of hunger or dehydration. Their best bet would be to fight their way out of the caves while they both were strong enough to have a chance.

Across from him, Lambert swayed slightly and shifted to lean back against the wall behind him. The scent of blood made Aiden tense even as his eyes picked out the dark smear left on the wall behind the Wolf’s injured shoulder. He’d been so focused on the exit, that he’d forgotten Lambert’s tendency to downplay his condition when he was hurt.

Immediately, the Cat moved closer, trying to swallow the mounting desperation in building in his chest. “I thought you said you were fine.”

“I  _ am _ fine,” Lambert snapped irritably, but didn’t protest when Aiden began to unlace the thick leather chestplate that hadn’t been enough to save the Witcher from a well-aimed bolt.

Aiden hissed out a breath in sympathetic pain when he revealed the bloodied mess of the other Witcher’s shoulder. The arrowhead must have been barbed because the wound was jagged and rough from where Lambert had been forced to pull it free. It had missed anything vital by mere inches, but there was plenty of danger left in the still bleeding wound.

“You’re still bleeding.”

Lambert shifted, pain bracketing the flat line of his mouth. “So repack it and put another pressure bandage on it--we don’t have time to play nurse.”

It was a mark of how serious the situation was that Aiden didn’t attempt to tease him about the fantasies such words could create. He watched a bead of clammy sweat drip down the side of Lambert’s face and the ragged rise and fall of his chest. The Wolf was clearly in more pain than he’d been letting on. The injury would no doubt make it impossible to raise his sword, let alone use it against these hunters.

Aiden absorbed the knowledge and what it meant for their escape with a cold sort of logic.

His hands were steady as he tied a fresh bandage around Lambert’s shoulder and curled a hand around the nape of the other Witcher’s neck. Whiskey dark eyes looked up at him in surprise at the intimacy of the gesture and Aiden ignored the worried thump of his heart. This was dangerously close to acknowledging why the Cat had been following him for so long. He dismissed the curl of anxiety with the knowledge that it wouldn’t matter much longer--Lambert would never forgive him for what he was about to do.

“Do you know how to get back to the horses?” he asked, eyes tracing over the familiar features greedily.

Lambert nodded, scowling weakly. “I’m not a child.”

Aiden’s lips twitched in a soft smile that gave away too much, judging by the way Lambert’s eyes widened slightly. He forced himself to release his hold and gestured to the other man’s cache of potions. “Do you have any Dragon’s Dream?”

A grunt. “No. I only brought Zerrikanian Sun.”

“Can I see it?”

With a shrug, the Wolf fished through his pockets and pulled out the bomb with care. Aiden smiled as he took it, trying not to let his expression give away what would happen next.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “but I can’t watch you die here.”

Lambert turned toward him. “What--”

The Axii landed like a blow, stopping him mid-motion.

He’d never been one for using signs on hunts when his blades were in reach, but he forced himself to pour every bit of focus and power into the familiar gesture. Lambert’s eyes glazed over, face going slack as he stopped mid-motion. Somehow, Aiden’s mind still interpreted his expression as one of betrayal.

Still, he had to move quickly before Lambert’s mind reclaimed its independence. “Stay here until there’s no more noise out there,” he ordered, “Then you go back to the horses and get the fuck out of here. Don’t look back.”

Lambert stared at him, pliant and distant.

He started to reach for him--to kiss or beg for forgiveness--but forced himself to turn away. If the only way he could keep Lambert safe was by paying this price, he would choose it again and again.

With the small bomb in his hand, Aiden padded down the narrow passage toward the sounds of the hunters. They were clearly settled in for the night and he could smell the sour sharp scent of alcohol being passed around. Good, he thought grimly, it would keep them slow and stupid enough to help him avoid being overwhelmed by their numbers.

He thumbed the release of the bomb and tossed it directly in the center of the group a moment before he stepped out of the shelter of the shadows.

Immediately, the small room at the cave’s exit was filled with a painfully bright flash of light and sound. He counted ten figures before the bomb’s effect left his sensitive eyes blinking away red shadows. The hunters threw up their hands instinctively and Aiden descended upon them like the killer he truly was. 

His knife caught and ripped through the fragile skin of his first victim’s neck, spraying out a bright red arc against the wall. He didn’t watch the body fall, instead used the momentum to sink the long knife into the soft gut of the next. 

_ Bones slow your sword _ , Gaetan’s voice warned him,  _ better to let them bleed than to be vulnerable to the rest of your enemies. _

A man came to his feet with his mouth open in a muffled roar and raised a woodcutter’s axe in a clumsy swing. Aiden ducked the attack easily, rewarding the effort with the knife in his palm sinking into the soft flesh of his underarm and into the heart hidden beyond. The youngest two humans took one look at the Cat’s feral expression and darted for the exit, heading back to the safety of their homes. Something smashed into his side in a bright starburst of pain and he slammed against the wall with a grunt. His ribs ached in protest, but he fought through the urge to stop and faced his attacker.

Three of the farmers had rallied together, each bearing an eclectic collection of weapons that must have been scavenged from markets and former soldiers. Aiden’s eyes narrowed on the bow and fletch of arrows tied to one man’s back with deadly intent. 

They flanked him with enough confidence that Aiden knew it hadn’t been their first time to do so. It forced him to give ground, angling himself towards the open air outside of the caves with the hope of giving him more room to maneuver. The largest of the three lashed out with a short sword that Aiden flicked aside with a quick movement, but was unable to press his advantage when the other hunter attacked with his own weapon. He managed to evade another attempt at cutting him down as they stepped out under glittering starlight.

From there it was a mindless back and forth of familiar battle. 

A cut across his forearm was made to match the bleeding wound from Aiden’s knife cutting into the artery on the inside of his thigh. He dodged another chop from the axe and managed to send the rusting sword spinning out into the darkness, following through to gut the man who’d once wielded it. The sound of boots over stone provided subtle warning and he cast Aard at his attacker. The man flew through the air to land against the stones with a sickening crunch.

The archer’s bravery faltered without his friends to fight with him. He took one look at the bloodied Cat and turned tail, running towards the relative safety of the rocks nearby. 

Aiden descended on him like a beast from a nightmare.

When he stood up, covered in gore and the memory of the man’s pleas for mercy, Aiden felt an odd mixture of exhaustion and elation. Lambert was safe. He would be able to forgive him for tricking him in time and Aiden could go back to pining for the growling Wolf in silence. They were going to be okay. They were--

The sword slammed into his chest with the crushing sensation of falling out of a dream.

Aiden staggered, mouth opening in a shocked noise as his eyes trailed up from the weapon to the wide-eyed teenager a few feet away. 

_ Stupid _ , Gaetan’s voice whispered,  _ never assume you’ve won until the bodies are burned. _

The pain was bright and jagged, raking cruel lines through his body. The boy looked equally shocked, pale and wild eyed in the weak moonlight. Aiden took a step toward him, reaching with numb fingers for the weapon he knew he’d already dropped. He had to protect Lambert, he told his trembling limbs. Lambert was vulnerable and hurt and  _ needed _ him.

Another step. This time the teenager seemed to rally, eyes hardening as he watched the injured Witcher and dismissed him as a threat without the knives that had taken out his companions. A disgusted curl of his lip completed the image of a child turned into a killer.

It seemed fitting that it would be the last expression on his face.

Aiden threw the last of his knives with little grace, sloppy enough that he could practically hear the snarl of his old trainers. Despite this, it landed with a dull thunk in the boy’s chest, right above the spot where Aiden’s own death wound was darkening with a growing stain. The teenager crumpled--and Aiden fell with him.

It was luck that gravity dragged him backwards instead of falling onto the sword still firmly embedded in his chest. He found himself staring up at the stars above him, trying and failing to blink away the darkness swimming at the edge of his vision. Each breath felt like a race to the end he knew would find him soon.

_ It was worth it, _ he thought up at the night sky. _ It would always be worth it. _

The rock was still sun warm against his back, soothing against the chill that spread from his chest. His fingers twitched against the ground and imagined the sticky liquid he felt mixing with the bright colors of the stone. It felt like every beat of his heart scraped against the sharp edge of the sword and sent little shivers of pain through his body.

Not long now.

Aiden watched the slowly growing pool of his life’s blood dripping onto the red rock below him. His chest rose and fell in ragged little gasps made awkward by the sword still pinning him to the earth. Pain was far away now and he knew only the cold chill of death would replace it. 

As his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but think:

This was going to destroy Lambert. 

The sound of footsteps was unexpected enough that Aiden tried to raise his head, fingers searching the sands around him for the weapons he’d lost. If he’d missed one of the hunters, he knew they would come to finish him off. He intended to die with a sword in his hands and their blood joining his.

Instead, a familiar form came streaking out of the cave and fell to their knees beside him. “Aiden?” Lambert’s voice was shaky with panic. “Answer me.”

Weak as he was, the best Aiden could manage was to drag his heavy eyelids up to stare up at him. He tried to smile, to comfort, but knew it hadn’t worked when Lambert’s face went pale.

“Stay awake, you suicidal fucker.” Aiden thought about laughing, but the sound came out broken. “Keep your eyes open.”

Ever the contrarian, he slowly let his lashes fall.

“You’re not allowed to die, damnit!” Lambert’s voice was frantic even if the hands pressing against the injury on his chest remained steady. It made Aiden want to smile, even if the effort felt overwhelming.

“I promised myself you wouldn’t die here. I  _ promised _ you I’d get us both out of this.”

His tongue felt too thick in his mouth, jumbling the words he wanted to say.

“Don’t you give up on me, you fucking bastard. I  _ promised-- _

* * *

The crackle of dry wood shifting on a campfire jerked Aiden out of unconsciousness. 

His mind felt comfortably hazy in a way that experience told him came with the assistance of healing and the strongest potions in his pack. Sluggishly, he let his eyes come open to blink up at the shadows of the trees above him and attempt to assemble his memories from whatever had laid him out. There was a familiar pressure of a bandage across his chest and the itch of healing skin.

He frowned, turning his head as he tried to remember what he’d forgotten that was making his chest go tight with remembered anxiety. Beneath his eyelids, flashes of fire and screams waited for him like nightmares. He shifted, restless. There was someone he needed to find. Someone waiting for him. Someone--

Lambert.

Aiden’s lips shaped the name on a dry rasp, barely audible. 

Despite that, he heard the sound of someone moving closer a moment before his head was carefully raised up to rest against a strong thigh and a waterskin pressed against his lips. He drank deeply, eager to ease the dry rasp in his throat and chase away the lingering taste of blood. When he had his fill, the water skin was pulled away and he was left looking up at the shadow of his Wolf’s face.

“You fucking  _ asshole _ .”

A weak smirk twitched at his lips at the disgusted tone of Lambert’s voice, soothing away the lingering worry that the Witcher’s injuries had gotten worse. If Lambert was being surly, it meant he was safe.

“...Thought I’d give heroics a shot,” he murmured weakly. “Geralt makes it look easy.”

“ _ Don’t _ .” The raw emotion in Lambert’s voice made Aiden’s eyes reopen in surprise, staring up at the man leaning over him. The Wolf shook his head like he was trying to chase away the memory of what had happened. “You could have died.”

Aiden frowned. “I wasn’t about to let them get you.”

“So you were going to die instead?”

“Not you,” Aiden growled back, panting a little with the effort of holding on to his temper. “If I knew you were gone...At least the sword would have ended things faster.”

There was a moment of silence before--

The thigh beneath his head shifted as Lambert’s lips came down over his. Urgency and emotion made the movement rough, gentling as Aiden’s hand came up to rake over the raw silk of his close cropped hair. The Wolf rumbled his approval as he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss into a wet slide. His hands stroked with impossible gentleness over the bandages covering the place where the Cat had taken a blade to keep him safe.

When his head began to spin from lack of oxygen, Lambert slowly leaned out of reach, ignoring the way Aiden tried to follow with a sound of protest. He pressed their foreheads and took a deep breath.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he said with an aching sort of vulnerability in his voice.

Aiden let his eyes close, unwilling to consider the thought that he might have gone to his grave without ever experiencing the singular joy of loving and being loved in return. He’d nearly lost everything in those caves. It made him somber.

“I’m sorry.”

Lambert shifted back to glare at him without any real menace. “Don’t do that again.”

The effect of his words was ruined by the way he immediately leaned down to press another chaste kiss against his lips.

Aiden smiled impishly against the joy pulsing in his blood. “I don’t know--if this is how you always respond to me nearly dying, I might have to do it every week.”

  
  



End file.
